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by The Allusive Man
Summary: The Reapers have been destroyed. Miranda searches for June Shepard in the aftermath.


Miranda wasn't supposed to be here. She didn't have the proper security clearance, and she was well outside of C-Sec's designated "safe zone." The four civilian medical volunteers she brought up with her from Earth were back on the damaged arms of the Citadel, helping tend to the thousands of injured and dying. She had slipped away from them as quickly as she could, setting out toward the epicenter of the pulse of red energy that had sundered the Citadel and ended the war. All that remained of the Reapers were smoking carcasses, thanks to whatever Shepard had done. Somehow, the beautiful, pig-headed woman had accomplished the impossible, just as Miranda knew she would.

Nobody had heard from Shepard since the blast. Most were presuming her dead. Indeed, it didn't seem likely that anyone in proximity to that explosion could have survived. Still, Miranda wasn't ready to accept Shepard's death. Even when Shepard literally lay dead in her laboratory two years ago, Miranda had refused to accept it. Why should she start now? Besides, the structure at the blast's origin still appeared intact, even if other sections of the Citadel had crumbled away. If anyone could survive the explosion, it was Shepard. She might still be up there, alone and in need of help. The thought churned in Miranda's gut, making her queasy. She had to find Shepard. There was simply no one else for the job. If Hackett were here, an Alliance search and rescue team would undoubtedly have been sent in by now. Unfortunately, he and his fleets were dozens of light years away; it would be days before they returned to Sol System. In the meantime, the Council was unreachable, and C-Sec was too scattered and overwhelmed to help. No, it was up to Miranda to do this.

After hours of walking, running, crawling, climbing, Miranda found herself in a large, seemingly uncovered chamber. She had long since lost track of how many security locks she had hacked, how many vents and panels she had kicked or pried open to get to this spot. She hadn't even known the way, really, as the maps for the area were very unreliable. The keepers were constantly changing things around in this section, for reasons nobody quite understood. Nevertheless, she had managed to make her way to the location where the Crucible interfaced with the Citadel. She prayed that the valuable time spent undertaking this little journey had not been time wasted. She could only speculate that Shepard must have come to this very spot to activate the Crucible. That reasoning – and desperate hope – were what had compelled her here.

Earth loomed above her in the exposed sky. The terminator line crept across the planet's surface, heralding a new day for some, even as it ushered others into night. The dark hemisphere was mottled with the great, glowing splotches of countless burning cities and runaway fires. It would take months to put out those fires, years to rebuild those cities. If you looked only at the sunlit hemisphere, you could almost fool yourself into thinking that nothing was amiss. The oceans were still vast and blue and serene. Even the great fires lost contrast under the scrutiny of the sun.

Miranda shivered, suddenly realizing how cold and thin the air was. She was sure the section's emergency barrier was weakening. Somewhere, air was leaking into space; she could hear the whistle of it, even over the creaking and moaning of wounded metal. The floor was scorched, and no recognizable structures still stood. Only heaps of broken concrete, twisted metal and exposed cable remained. The area was highly unsafe. Undaunted, she continued her search.

The body was half-buried in a pile of rubble when she found it. Twisted metal and shattered concreted surrounded it, preventing easy access. She examined it from a couple meters away with a flashlight. At first, she saw only scorched flesh in the shape of a person. A few badly damaged sections of what appeared to be body armor remained, but Miranda couldn't make out any markings. She thought… She thought it might be a woman. Miranda's pulse quickened as she moved closer, ducking, twisting and stepping her way through the debris. A glint of metal caught her eye as she drew close, and her heart skipped a beat. A dog tag! She stooped down and snatched the tag, flipping it and scanning for a name. It was her.

"Shepard!" She brushed aside more debris and knelt beside the woman, pressing two fingers to her carotid. She waited a long moment. There. A pulse! She thought she heard a raspy breath as well, but it was difficult to tell. She could feel a draft now, as air continued to leak into space. It was getting hard to breathe. She slid her breather mask up over her mouth and nose. Better, but she still needed to get Shepard out of here before the woman asphyxiated, or worse yet, the emergency barrier gave out and exposed them both to vacuum. She began clearing the detritus from Shepard's body, frantically hurling chunks of concrete out of the way.

Shepard shifted her head slightly and let out a moan. Her eyes were open, but unfocused. She was blind. She lifted an arm feebly in Miranda's direction. Miranda took Shepard's hand and leaned down to her ear. "Hold on, June. It's Miranda." Her voice was calm, reassuring, belying the bulge in her throat. "You did it. You're going to be okay. I'm getting you out of here now. Squeeze my hand if you understand."

Shepard clenched her hand firmly. Miranda swelled with pride and relief. "Good girl," she replied, her eyes moistening. She scooped the fallen Spectre up into her arms and quickly made her way back the way she had come, speaking soothing words to Shepard as she carried her to safety. To home.


End file.
